<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Magic Glove of the 90s by tanynova</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186751">A Magic Glove of the 90s</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanynova/pseuds/tanynova'>tanynova</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Actual Idiots, Fluff, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:29:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29186751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanynova/pseuds/tanynova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David and Eddie set themselves a goal: to force Mika and Michael to finally open their love stricken eyes.</p><p>Caution: might result in a level of awkwardness and pure ooc no one would ever anticipate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mika Häkkinen/Michael Schumacher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Magic Glove of the 90s</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't quite know what to make of this. I simply fell for Michael/Mika and someone gave me an idea of their teammates-shippers aaand this fluffy, dumb and not containing any plot thing rose up. It's not proofread and won't be, so you know it's just a pile, okay.</p><p>For some reason I spent an embarrassing amount of time describing them eye fucking.</p><p>But I still hope you enjoy!</p><p>twitter - @_tanynova_</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie was still half asleep. Time zones are killing everyone’s sleep here on the paddock, but it seemed even drenching morning sun dark black coffee couldn’t breathe in some live in him. Even its horrendous taste wouldn’t help. He shook his head weary, hoping his scramble eggs hadn’t cooled down already. The contemplation over eggs was, however, rudely interrupted by a loud shunt of his unsteady table. At least his hand now burnt provided a jolting adrenaline shot.</p><p>“What the… Wait, what’s wrong, Michael?” Eddie asked while patting his hand with napkins.</p><p>“What do you mean?” was the most unnatural answer to him. </p><p>As nonchalant German could always be perceived, be presented like his sense of self belief is irreproachable as he was now blatantly irritated and… Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it, almost anxious? </p><p>“What do I mean? You almost crushed the bloody table on me, walking like you’ve been fired!” he answered.</p><p>Michael sighed heavily.</p><p>“It’s nothing, sorry for your spilled coffee,” he muttered quickly glancing over his back.</p><p>Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow, yet he knew at this point for a while that it’s impossible to break Michael with simple questions, therefore he moved to his cold now yellow scramble. And silent observing. After all, there must’ve been a reason for an agitated Michael Schumacher. </p><p>For some time no one walking past them behind Eddie’s back didn’t seem to bother his teammate so much up until the point when Michael’s face almost turned into a new, much longer shape with eyes instantly widened and then shot down to his porridge as swiftly as muscles allowed. Failing being discrete, the Irishman turned around with barely hidden interest to glance over the provocateur.</p><p>“Mika, of course… How could I forget,” Eddie whispered under his breath.</p><p>The Finn looked as if he was searching for someone, an urgent look within his eyes.  Unfortunately for Michael, scarlet red stood proudly and brightly which meant he could be easily found by Mika. Eddie was on the very edge of laughing, seeing how usually very reserved and confident German was trying to make himself as transparent as possible. </p><p>There was clearly something that both men were too incredibly oblivious (or simply dumb) to resolve. He was debating with himself choosing between slight mockery and actual concern. Obviously, he opted for the former.</p><p>“Aww, love birds split up didn’t they?” he said with dictionary shit eating smile.</p><p>“Oh fuck off. We’re not love birds,” Michael snapped.</p><p>“Oh, so you don’t deny it?” Eddie squinted a bit with satisfaction.</p><p>“I haven’t said anything! What are you even implying?” he really shouldn’t have asked this.</p><p>“C'mon, Michael, we both know how you’re feeling about Mika, don’t try to pretend.” or Eddie shouldn’t have answered.</p><p>“No, you don’t.” the German lashed out and changed the table, which was the clearest sing for Eddie to explore the situation.</p><p>Mika would probably punch him or lash out similarly, thus David was an obvious choice.</p><p>He quickly downed both coffee and scramble leftovers and left the table in search of a McLaren motorhome.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Comparably to Ferrari drivers, both McLarens were having a one-sided chat with only difference: Mika was upset rather than irritated. Eddie’s interest grew more while he peeked from the distance. It didn’t last long, though, and the Finn rushed somewhere, passing Eddie in an instant. </p><p>“Hey, David, I wanted to talk,” he said.</p><p>“You read my mind,” answered David, looking at quickly disappearing Mika.</p><p>Eddie decided to speak up first.</p><p>“What’s up with him?”</p><p>“It’s not actually the first time I see Mika this weird.” </p><p>The Irishmen felt a detective in him craving answers. Or a gossiper. Or both.</p><p>“Tel me more.”</p><p>“It’s usually happens whenever a fangirl is trying to flirt with him,” David shrugged.</p><p>“Wait, don’t you get it?” Eddie asked.</p><p>“Get what? That he doesn’t fancy girls? Of course, he doesn’t, I know his type.”</p><p>Eddie chocked on air although continued. Suddenly, a gossiper in his head put it all together.</p><p>“Not <em> just </em>that. He fancies Michael!” </p><p>“He what?!”</p><p>“It’s blatantly clear! Okay, let me explain. He has just growled at me because I joked about them being love birds. You should’ve seen the way he was bloody <em> pissed </em>one moment, and then tried to hide behind me. I thought I’d spit my breakfast.”</p><p>“You’re not saying...” David’s eyes were expanding rapidly, accompanied by a strong curve of eyebrows.</p><p>“I am! What if, let’s say, he saw poor Mika trying to escape this not less poor denied girl and thought different of it?”</p><p>“But how do we prove it?”</p><p>“Let’s assume it true until proven wrong. The question is how do we prove anything; they escape each other oppositely charged.”</p><p>“Why bother? Let’s tease them until they break the ice,” there was definitely something malicious and naughty in his eyes.</p><p>Eddie didn’t know what he put himself into.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>David fiddled with worn, adjusted to not his hands gloves with knuckles seemingly thinner from often use. Once bleached white, “lucky” gloves were now tainted with sepia of years it seemed. Surely, they must be important to the Finn, otherwise they would’ve been replaced already. There was a slight malicious smirk going around David’s lips, multiple scenarios unfolding in his mind. <em> This should be fun. </em></p><p>There was a knock on the door. The Scotsman could describe a double knock as annoyed. Expectedly, an irritated Mika stood on the other side.</p><p>“Have you seen my gloves?”</p><p>“What gloves?” David was in an annoying mood, playing dumb.</p><p>“Don’t be silly, my lucky old gloves. I need them.”</p><p>Instead of a snarky comment David retained himself and continued playing out the plot.</p><p>“I honestly have no clue. Maybe you should ask Eddie? Our motorhomes are quite close, maybe he’s seen them,” leading straight to Michael would be no fun way too involved into such soap opera David concluded.</p><p>Mika raised a doubting brow.</p><p>“They are not… Do not tell me you’re just sending me to Ferraris.”</p><p>It was tricky to hide the smile.</p><p>“I’m not! It was just my suggestion, you need to start somewhere.”</p><p>Evidently, David was convincing enough for gloves searcher to silently nod and head for the Ferrari motorhome.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>While on its way Mika was actually considering an idea of seeing Michael and… Uh, there was no truly logical reason for it, which made him blush slightly. Fine, he could try to explain that the girl fitted with him first, and he didn’t enjoy it, but this would need an implication that Michael actually cared. Which, by Mika’s conclusions, wasn’t true.</p><p>Anyway, he convinced himself to fall for weird David’s suggestion and went for questioning Eddie.</p><p>As if the whole world thought of making a joke of poor Finn, Eddie was talking with Michael, both casually standing in front of a brilliantly reddened building. Mika tried his absolute best in order to peel off his eyes from the way white Ferrari t-shirt was tucked into a black leather tightened belt…</p><p>… Mika took a breath.</p><p>It’s idiotic. Yet he does need his gloves, he’d never travel to any GP without them.</p><p>Once he started approaching them, Michael became much tenser and stopped talking, eyes expecting to see the development. Eddie nonchalantly waved at the Finn while the German nodded laconically, hands uncomfortably hidden in his pockets.</p><p>“Anyone has seen my gloves? I can’t find them,” Mika cut straight to the case.</p><p>Eddie went through sufficiently hidden chain of thoughts and correctly concluded that helpless Mika was already drawn into a white lie by David. </p><p>“I honestly don’t know how they even look, sorry, mate. Michael?” Eddie bluntly tried to shake off the subject from him, leaving two men to talk to one another.</p><p>“Are you talking about the ones you keep in your bag? You know, white ones that are a bit yellow now because they’re old,” Michael suddenly deadpanned.</p><p>Both Eddie’s and Mika’s faces extended with utter surprise. Mika felt he was embarrassingly heated on the cheeks, making a mental note to ask Michael what else he knew about his belongings this minutely. They were definitely taken aback by the details.</p><p>“Uh... Yeah, these. Usually they’re in my bag, but now they’re gone.”</p><p>“Sorry, Mika, I haven’t seen them either,” it might be the southern summer sun hitting them or Michael showed actual upset, not simple politeness. </p><p>A slightly awkward silence layered over voices and noises around them. </p><p>“Let’s hope you’ll find them! But I need to go, see you later, Mika,” Michael tried to excuse himself as plausibly as possible.</p><p>Eddie promptly nodded and left too, leaving Mika following the departing silhouette with his eyes. </p><p><em> Well, that was weird, </em>Mika thought. He would lie, though, saying that he wasn’t ablush not just from awkwardness.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>After a good half of the drivers the Finn was absolutely miserable. The worst case was Jean to whom he had to explain the details of every single white tissue finger. That’s it, he would search one last time around his block and leave it to the Universe to find them.</p><p>To his big heart thumping surprise there was Michael standing just in front of his block, straight back resting on a wall. He was holding gloves gently, studying them. Mika didn’t want to intrude since the whole picture was rather beautiful if not simply amusing thus he came over silently and let out a breathy cough. It was enough to extract the German from his examination.</p><p>“I found these, and I think they’re the ones you were looking for,” he said with one hand reaching out.</p><p>Mika looked down to see his lucky gloves resting on a relaxed hand, he couldn’t help but notice how careful Michael was with them. He reached out in return for them.</p><p>“Thank you so much, where did you find them?” </p><p>If Michael could blush visibly, he would.</p><p>“This is a bit of a funny story, actually, because they were in my room...”</p><p>Mika’s eyes widened moments before he started realizing what has happened.</p><p>“Oh good grief… We’ve been set up,” he couldn’t interpret whether he was embarrassed or annoyed.</p><p>Michael raised a brow in his natural manner, having nothing to say due to having not enough information. </p><p>“First things first, I went to ask David about those bloody gloves. He was really weird and insisting on the idea that I should go to the Ferraris to ask you lot. Considering that you’re not the one who would still my gloves I suspect he threw them into your room, so you’d go and return them to me personally,” mumbled Mika with seemingly worsened Finnish accent.</p><p>One brow accompanied the raised one, followed by almost fear with admixture of something else peaking through. </p><p>“And why do you think David would do that?” after a moment of regaining facial control he answered making a step towards, making Finn swallow thickly.</p><p>Mika raised his head to level their eyes, green in front of blue. Michael was always the one to win staring competitions; as far as his silent communication skills go, his stare was the one thing very few could withstand. The Finn wasn’t the exception, his cheek were definitely heating from both silence and electricity transmitted to the air from their gazes cutting through the air. </p><p>“Do you?” he made a step closer too.</p><p>“Avoiding answering, Mika?” Michael leaned slightly forward for his lowered voice to be  heard.</p><p>Mika took a leap of faith. </p><p>“But it’s obvious how you undress me with your piercing green eyes, Michael,” he said in a calm low voice - which was purely fake - without blinking. </p><p>The leap was rather successful, judging by the fact that the German in front of him put that playful  smile across his well-defined lips that surely attracted attention they were begging for.</p><p>Sure, Mika hadn’t thought about them just once. He had thought about how are they to kiss, whether they’re surprisingly soft or almost expectedly rough but still welcoming… Yet he was never in just meaningless - but so meaningful - couple centimetres from them, seemingly not very restrained from any action.</p><p>There was also never an option of reciprocation. Hell, it’s Michael Schumacher we’re talking about, he would never let anything more than “friendly rival”, wouldn’t he? Observing, <em> consuming </em>the way wide, suddenly more laid-back green eyes in front of him fell lower, towards his own almost parted lips made him seriously doubt that conclusion.</p><p>“There you are! I was looking for you, briefing is in 20 minutes,” the Finn could recognize his assistant.</p><p>The voice from other world - <em> real world - </em>spiked thorough what was building like hot knife. </p><p>Before the man in McLaren uniform could drag him into his duties, Michael gently took his wrist with quiet “Here, 10 PM.”.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Michael checked his sponsored laconic watch yet another time which showed stubborn 5 minutes to ten. Again. He was always very patient, after all, you wouldn’t build an entire legendary team around you in one season, so him pacing 5-metre distance was as out of character action as it could ever be. It was not only unfit for him, but also self-inflicted trap, because after solid two minutes of affectionate gazing Mika sneaked just behind him.</p><p>And then softly coughed to make Michael do a 90 degree spin.</p><p>“So I guess you’re quite happy to see me, then,” the Finn laughed off his own nervousness.</p><p>“I really am, to be honest,” <em> does he look… Worried?,  </em>“I assume you’re, uh, wondering why you’re here. Let’s say I wanted to check something.”</p><p>Before Mika could even say a word, he felt a firm but not pressuring hand on his cheek and then Michael’s lips on his own. It’s almost funny how such a swift movement resulted in a very careful kiss, to which Mika answered not just immediately, but instinctively. Willing to deepen the kiss, both men placed their hands on other’s waist and pulling it closer. The only thing that parted them was physical need for air. </p><p>“So I wasn’t mistaken,” Michael said, not letting go of Mika.</p><p>“About?...” it would be a lie to say that the Finn could catch breath.</p><p>“That you quite like me, obviously,” he smiled softly.</p><p>Mika’s eyes warmed with smile as he continued the thought, “And it’s mutual.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>God knows why Eddie would need a bloody mop in Ferrari’s storeroom on exactly this day. In his poor defence, it was rather late, and letting a spilled drink in corridor of their motorhome wasn’t in his plans. </p><p>He swore under his breath and went for a search. Once he reached a door needed he could clearly hear people inside, even thought it wasn’t that big of a room for even one person.</p><p><em> Who the hell would voluntarily stuff himself there with someone, </em>he thought just before opening it and having it question explosively removed by both shock and laughter.</p><p>“Ah ya pups, those bloody gloves of David’s worked wonders! Get a room, I need a broom!” Eddie tried to say while covering his poor eyes.</p><p>Something played in Michael that made him retort, appearing from behind Mika’s bare shoulder, “I knew it was David, that idiot!”</p><p>Well, not such an idiot after all.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>